


Say Yes

by GoodIdeaAtTheTime



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M, Pokemon GO Shenanigans, Secret Santa Gift Exchange, Walking tour of London, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 17:12:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13128051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodIdeaAtTheTime/pseuds/GoodIdeaAtTheTime
Summary: It's Wufei's birthday, and Duo isn't home, but he has planned something to keep Wufei busy.For The Gundam Wing Secret Santa Gift Exchange 2017.





	Say Yes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheLaughingStar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLaughingStar/gifts).



> For the lovely thelaughingstar, who requested 2x5 - Duo indulging Wufei in his nerdery. I hope you like it!

The knock on the door didn’t wake Wufei up, but it was earlier than most people would expect company. The courier looked surprised when the door was answered by someone who was not only awake and dressed, but didn’t seem at all perplexed at getting a delivery at 6:30am.

“Sorry,” he muttered apologetically, holding the data pad out for Wufei to sign, “the instructions said if we came any later you’d probably be out.”

“The instructions were right,” Wufei said flatly, passing the pad back and taking the his package.

It was a small box, suspiciously light, but the handwriting on it was definitely Duo's scrawl. He was due back that evening, so what he had felt the need to courier home to arrive twelve hours before him was beyond him, but then Duo was always determined to surprise him.

He opened it, and into his palm slid a smartphone, with a post-it note stuck to the screen that declared, in excited block capitals, ‘YOU KNOW HOW TO TURN ME ON’.

He didn’t want to smile at that, but couldn’t quite stop himself as he started the phone up, setting the post-it aside whilst the screen came to life. The home screen was empty of anything except a single app, with a red and white circular logo, simply named ‘click me’.

This was ridiculous, Wufei thought, even as he followed the instruction. A bright cartoon loading page took over the display, and Wufei found himself, not for the first time in his life, wondering how on earth Duo Maxwell had wormed his way into his consciousness to the point that he was complying with vague instructions in nonsensical packages.

It had been nearly fifteen years since the first war began, and Duo seemed to have begun his campaign to get closer to Wufei from the instant he had got out of his gundam and yelled at them all at New Edwards - at least, that was what he claimed. Certainly during their time on Lunar Base, Duo had seemed determined to ‘bond’.

Wufei had been less convinced, and more than a little resistant. It was only after the war, when they had both ended up at the same Preventers branch, setting up the training programme, and found themselves the youngest and simultaneously most experienced agents there. It was a relief to spend time with just each other, without having to explain their baggage.

And somewhere between those quiet evenings, relaxing and unquestioning, and working together, point-for-point and with breathless efficiency, a friendship was born. The trust had been there from the war, although it had become a little cautious following the Barton uprising, two years in the London branch had been enough to reaffirm it, making it stronger than before. It came as a surprise when Wufei realised he actually enjoyed Duo’s company for its own sake, not just as a relief from other people’s. That he would actively seek Duo out.

That he missed him when they were then posted to different branches.

Missed him a lot. 

So when he received a text saying Duo would be in town and would he like to meet up - well of course he said yes. And the next time. And the time after that.

And when there was an awkward confession made, and a shy question asked - he said yes to that too. Without even having to think or hesitate.

That had been ten years ago, barely twenty years old, and neither of them particularly adept at ‘normal’, but extremely good with each other. So when Wufei had been transferred, finally, back to London, Duo had followed not long after. 

Which was how they found themselves in a cozy flat in Wimbledon, turning 30 and comfortably domesticated.

Turning 30 today, in fact. Wufei had tried not to be disappointed when Duo had been sent away to run a training course for the month prior to his birthday, particularly when Duo had arranged the logistics to get back for the evening at least. And, apparently, had found time to devise a ridiculous birthday present. Because naturally.

The app finished loading, and smiling up at him from the screen was a cartoon of Duo, dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, but wearing a red and white waistcoat and baseball cap, and holding a red and white ball.

“Hi!” Cartoon-Duo said in a speech-bubble on-screen, “Happy Birthday! I know you’re planning to go into work today, but it’s your day off, so Heero and I put this together for you instead.”

Oh dear, Wufei thought, with resigned amusement. When those two started conspiring together it always got out of control. Apparently the pair of them had a few issues with the concept of ‘moderation’.

“Every time I’ve done a treasure hunt for you, you cheat and answer all the questions without leaving the house,” Screen-Duo continued, “So we hacked this old app and you have to follow it to get the next clue. You’re gonna be a Pokémon Master.”

The screen changed and became a cartoon map, with a person stood in the middle – a digital avatar of Wufei, complete with ponytail. There was a blue circle spinning gently beside him. Duo popped up in the corner of the screen.

“This is a Pokéstop,” he said. “These are what you're aiming for. Tap it to open it, swipe to spin it, and it’ll give you the clue to your next stop.”

Obediently, Wufei tapped the circle and it took over the whole screen, in the centre was the photograph of all five pilots that was on their mantlepiece. It declared itself “Home Base”. A quick swipe sent it twirling and bubbles with little balls popped out, followed by a note.

_Time for breakfast? I'm buying._

Pulling out his real phone with his other hand, it was as if Duo knew what he was thinking, a call flashing through on the screen.

“What is this?” Wufei demanded as he answered.

“Good mornin’,” Duo chuckled down the line, “and happy birthday.”

“Where did you even find this?”

“Cute, ain’t it?” Duo sounded extremely pleased with himself, and Wufei missed him like a physical ache. “It’s a piece of history that is, you’re a historian, thought you’d appreciate it.”

“It’s… Oh!”

“What?”

A little creature had appeared on the screen next to his avatar, popping into existence and making the phone vibrate in his hand, startling him. It was bright yellow, with big ears and a zig-zagged tail. Duo laughed again, and the little pop-up Duo on screen appeared to coach him through catching it using one of the red and white balls the ‘pokéstop’ had given him.

The Pikachu stared out the screen at him, bobbing around on the spot happily.

“What am I supposed to do with it?” he asked, finally.

“Yeah, we thought about takin’ them out of the game,” Duo mused thoughtfully down the phone, and there was a quiet rasp of him scratching his chin as he spoke, fingers against stubble - it was the middle of the night where he was, and Wufei could picture him perfectly, sleepy and sprawled somewhere comfortable. “It would’a been a huge job, though, and I figured they were cute so…”

“I’m not playing a game all day,” Wufei told him. “I’ve got to go to work.”

“No, you don’t,” Duo said, “it’s your day off, and you’ve got no active cases at the moment. The Law can wait for you to enjoy your weekend. You’re only goin’ in ‘cause you think you’ve got nothin’ better to do. Well, now you have.”

“Duo…”

“Do you trust me?”

He didn’t even have to think about that.

“Yes. Even though I shouldn’t.”

“Then go out, have fun, and take a backpack.”

“A backpack?”

“Trust me.”

  


*

  


The first clue was a fairly easy one. Wufei had picked up his book and his bag, and settled himself on the tube for the ride into the city. District line, then Circle to Euston Square. Plenty of time for reading, and fortunately, at this time on a Saturday, traffic was fairly quiet. He was thankful again that they had moved out to Wimbledon - for a while they had been based on the Northern line, and that was deep, hot, crowded and full of small trains. The District and Circle lines felt positively airy by comparison, and made it easier to tamp down his instinctive reaction to being stuck in a tube in a tunnel underground.

Pulling the phone out of his pocket as he emerged onto Euston Road, Wufei checked the app and couldn’t help smirking as he saw the little spinning logo over his destination.

The Wellcome Trust museum and bookshop was about two hundred yards down the road from Euston Square, a large building, mixing traditional red brick architecture with modern glass and steel. It looked like someone had taken two separate buildings, smashed them together, and gone ‘Ta-daaa!’ from the outside. But inside…

As he stepped through the revolving doors, he found himself in the clean, white-floored foyer, making his way up the steps to the reception desk. To his left, the modern white spiral staircase, taking people to the exhibits and reading rooms - displays of scientific curiosities and biological specimens, reading rooms organised by theme. The museum housed the collection of a centuries-dead philanthropist, and had been curated and grown in line with his ethos over the years since it was made.

It was a peaceful place, dedicated to the wonders of humanity and the world, unusual and thoughtful.

But instead of turning left, Wufei went right. Towards the cafe and bookshop.

 _Time for breakfast? I’m buying_.

The words Duo had said just before they had gone their separate ways after their first furlough in the city. Stood at Euston station, suitcases waiting with them, bigger luggage already sent ahead to their new assignments. All the trains had been delayed, and Duo, slightly awkward, had turned to Wufei and grinned. Said those words.

Desperate to get out of the station, and away from the mill of busy, grumpy people, but not wanting to stray too far in case the trains were suddenly fixed, they had trundled across the road to the museum, settled at a table by the wall, and had two large coffees and a pastry each.

And then another two large coffees.

And then had gone to explore the bookshop which was set up right beside the cafe, big and white and open, very inviting. Then had, predictably, tried to stuff the books they had bought into their already fairly over-packed luggage.

Before returning for another couple of drinks.

It had been four hours before they had braved the station again, and managed to fight their way on to appropriate trains, parting with shy smiles, a firm handshake, and glances back when they thought the other wasn’t looking.

Apparently Duo was going to take him on a trip down memory lane today.

Wufei was just about to get into the queue to buy himself breakfast while he was there, when he felt a gentle touch on his elbow, and turned, startled, to see Quatre smiling at him.

“I’ve got us a table already,” Quatre said, gesturing to a table with refreshments already there.

Wufei followed him across to the seats, and took the chair across from the blonde, who had already settled down and started pouring out the tea from the pot in the middle of the table. Now he was suspicious. It was one thing for Duo to have set up a stupid game for him, it was another to have Quatre waiting for him.

“Why are you here?” Wufei asked.

“It’s your birthday,” Quatre said as if that explained everything, passing Wufei a cup of the tea, and gesturing for him to help himself to one of the pastries on the plate. “I wanted to come say hello.”

“From Brussels,” Wufei said flatly, although he did take the tea, and an apricot danish.

It was his birthday.

“From Johannesburg, actually,” Quatre told him, adding milk and a generous spoon of sugar to his own cup, and stirring before tapping his teaspoon neatly on the rim of the mug and setting it on the saucer. He looked him and smiled brightly at Wufei. “But it _is_ a milestone birthday. And a milestone for us - we’ve now known each other fifteen years! Isn’t that wonderful?”

“It means I can work out when there’s something going on,” Wufei replied, taking a sip of his tea. “What’s he got planned?”

The blonde man chuckled, and looked extremely pleased with himself.

In the fifteen years since the war, Quatre had grown taller and broader, grown into the huge weight of responsibility left to him as a child, and now wore it comfortably. The steel core inside him was concealed by a much slimmer layer of sunshine and etiquette than it had been as a teenager, but it meant that in everything he exuded a sense of effortless control and calm. When he was pleased, it was clear.

And he was often pleased, nowadays. People had finally learned the hard way not to take advantage of him, and his life had become significantly easier.

Now he was sat, tanned from his time in Africa, his hair impossibly more fair, in a pale pink shirt - immaculately pressed - and tan chinos, looking like someone had put his wartime self in the oven to let him finish baking. He had finally achieved the full rise on the Winner loaf.

“I’ve sworn a strict oath not to tell you a thing,” he said to Wufei, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “All I can say was that I was told to come here and buy you a birthday breakfast. You have to work out what’s next.”

Pressing his lips together in dissatisfaction, Wufei looked back to the phone and flicked his finger across the face of the checkpoint, looking at all the items being flung out at him.

_Silence is golden._

The phone buzzed in his hand and another little creature popped into existence next to where his avatar was stood. Quatre watched curiously as he caught it, craning his head to see the screen as it appeared, name emblazoned above it.

“It’s cute,” he observed.

“It’s a bird,” Wufei said, looking disdainfully at the Pidgey. “I caught a mouse earlier as well. And a caterpillar. Who came up with this?”

“You’re enjoying it though, aren’t you?” Quatre said. “Or you wouldn’t keep catching them.”

Trying to tamp down on the embarrassed flush, Wufei turned the screen back to himself.

“It says there are a hundred and fifty different ones,” he said, irritably. “But it won’t tell me what they are unless I catch them.”

He ignored Quatre’s chuckle and pinched his fingers on the screen to zoom the map out, able to see where the next stop had appeared. It was close, just further down Euston Road, and he couldn’t help but smile when he linked it with the clue.

Duo was up to something alright, but he was definitely making sure Wufei enjoyed himself on the way.

  


*

  


Breakfast with Quatre had been really pleasant. It had been a while since they had been able to catch up properly - in the last year or so it had all been big events and group gatherings, no time to just… sit. And talk. About the books they’d been reading, the things they’d been doing.

So when they parted ways, Quatre walking with him out of the doors to the Wellcome Trust, heading away from him towards Tottenham Court Road, Wufei was feeling happier for good company, and good tea. There was also a gift in his backpack, a selection of tea infusions in neat little bags - a small birthday present, Quatre insisted.

Continuing down Euston Road, catching the occasional little creature that appeared - there were so many Pidgeys, he was getting rather fed up with them - he kept his eye out for the large, square bulk of the British Library.

Set directly beside St. Pancras Station and its towering Renaissance Hotel, a looming Victorian Gothic masterpiece of grandeur, the library looked almost an afterthought, all brutalist lines. Only the red brick of the two of them made them blend together, and the contrast look less uncomfortable.

Crossing the road, and walking through the wrought iron gate into the courtyard, Wufei took a moment to savour the feeling the building always evoked in him.

When they had returned to London, Wufei had started a law degree, sponsored by the Preventers. It had been hard, fascinating work, and he had spent a lot of time hunched over textbooks and his laptop in the British Library reading rooms, feeling calmer for being surrounded by manuscripts and texts from centuries, even millennia before.

He allowed the security guard on the door to check his bag, and stepped into the entrance hall, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. The wide, white staircase in front of him swept up towards the reading rooms on other levels, or on either side of him down to the cloakrooms. In the centre of the building, part of the rare books archive towered up - floors and floors of books visible through the tinted glass, looking for all the world like a cube of literature, the linen colour of the pages stark even through the coloured glass, standing out against the black steel which held the panes in place.

There was something extremely comforting about a library, and particularly _this_ library. A law library - depository for every book ever printed in the country, and curator of rare manuscripts, ancient texts and literary artifacts.

Everything in its proper place.

Except for Trowa Barton, who was not supposed to be there, but was trotting casually down the stairs towards him as though he hadn’t been in Sydney at the start of the week, and had mentioned nothing about coming to the UK when they had spoken only three days before.

“Did he honestly think I wouldn’t find this suspicious?” he asked, as Trowa drew nearer.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Trowa said, “he _has_ met you. But he also knows we wouldn’t tell.”

“What are you allowed to tell me?”

“I have two tickets for the exhibition,” Trowa said, holding up said tickets. “Interested?”

The exhibition…. An archive of literary letters on display, correspondence from great authors through history, alongside photographs, draft manuscripts and illustrations. He had mentioned in passing to Duo that he thought it would be interesting, but hadn’t yet made the time to go.

Apparently he was now.

Trowa looked well, it was nice to see him face-to-face and not over a video screen. He had settled in Sydney, taken up running an animal sanctuary in between his work with the Preventers, a base for himself and Catherine.

They had a lot of lions and seemed very happy.

But it meant that meeting with him took a lot of coordination, usually several months in advance, and generally only occurred when the whole group of them were getting together. Although, looking at the way the day was going, Wufei was beginning to suspect that was the end game.

“It’s very hard to argue with someone making you do what you want to do,” he said petulantly, as he allowed Trowa to steer him to the exhibition.

“It’s a very hard life,” Trowa agreed, and managed to sound only a little sarcastic.

  


*

  


By the time he got to the next stop - the British Museum, with the British Library exhibition companion book in his backpack, courtesy of Trowa - he wasn’t entirely surprised to find Sally Po loitering in the gift shop, contemplating two tea towels with dinosaurs on.

“I thought you were in Beijing,” he said.

“‘Thought followed a muck spreader because he thought it was a wedding’,” Sally quipped cheerfully, the obscure idiom tripping off her tongue like she had been practicing it. She looked very pleased with Wufei’s disgusted expression. “Good isn’t it? I heard someone say it on my way in and I’m going to use it all the time now. What do you think - T-rex or Triceratops?”

“Triceratops,” Wufei decided, “T-rex is too obvious.”

She nodded and placed the T-rex towel back, heading to the counter with Wufei following behind.

Sally had been his partner when he had first started with the Preventers, and then his supervisor not long after that. Ever the leader, she had found herself very well suited to the paramilitary structure within the organisation, and more than capable of standing toe-to-toe with Une and hashing an issue out, and she had flown to the top with pragmatism and determination. Which was how she ended up running the East Asia and Pacific operations as one of Une’s direct delegates.

As a result, her diary often booked up months in advance, and visits outside of her area of command were hastily scheduled around other meetings and committees she was attending.

Wufei had missed her affectionate badgering, and her steady hand steering him through life and missions. Whenever he saw her he realised how poor a substitute email was for actual interaction.

That said, there was definitely something going on here that was beyond one of Duo’s usual schemes.

“Why are you here? I certainly don’t have time to do the whole museum if I have to finish this ridiculous treasure hunt today.”

Sally paid for the towel, and then handed it to him with a bright smile.

“Happy Birthday,” she said. “I’ve got tickets to a lecture, since you know the rest of the museum by heart.”

“Not by _heart_ …”

She passed him the tickets - _On violence and beauty: reflections on war_. It sounded like… something he would be very interested in, and he eyed Sally, but she just put her purse back in her handbag and sauntered off.

The phone buzzed in his hand as they left the gift shop and headed to the gallery where the lecture was being held. Sally watched in amusement as he caught the pokémon that had appeared.

“How many have you caught now?”

“Shut up.  


 

*

  


Lunch had come with Heero Yuy waiting for him out the front of his favourite restaurant in Covent Garden, where he and Duo had gone for dinner just after moving in together. 

The Japanese man had been stood on the pavement, solid and immovable as ever, the crowds flowing around him like water. He saw Wufei across the street, and dipped his head in acknowledgement.

He was _supposed_ to be in space. _Supposed_ to be working with the colonial governments to track separatist groups and head off any potential Barton Uprisings before they got that far, as well as monitoring and upgrading security for the computers which kept the massive stations spinning.

The work was perfect for him, out of the limelight but with a measurable outcome, and it required very little actual talking to people. Directly after the war, Heero had been very aware of his lack of social graces, of his difficulty settling into civilian society. It had taken time, patience, and trial and error to find somewhere he would settle, and for him to learn what his limits were, and manage them. Knowing the boundaries helped him to slowly expand them as well, pushing himself further by inches.

Which was how he was able to stand in front of Wufei in the midst of a Saturday lunchtime crowd in Covent Garden, the mass of bodies seething around them, but still look calm. Not just stoic, but his shoulders, though straight, were relaxed, and his face showed no strains to remain blank.

It was heartening to see, and remember how far he had come. How far they had all come.

“I hear you are partly to blame for this,” Wufei said, brandishing the phone at Heero as he drew nearer. Heero looked at the screen and a small smirk pulled at his mouth.

“You’ve levelled up,” he observed. “Duo was right about leaving the pokémon in. Have you evolved any yet?”

“I - yes, but can we focus on how ridiculous this is?”

“It’s not ridiculous if you’re enjoying it,” Heero said pragmatically. “Lunch?”

He tilted his head towards the restaurant, and Wufei sighed in defeat.

“We’ll never get a table at this time on a Saturday,” he pointed out.

“Already booked,” Heero told him, leading the way inside. “After all the planning that went into this, did you think Duo would leave anything to chance?”

“... Fair point.”

It was busy inside, but in the far corner there was a table set aside for them, and they were ushered to it, bread and wine being brought out promptly. Heero reached into his messenger bag and passed a bottle across the table.

“Happy Birthday,” he said, as Wufei took the wine and studied it - a favourite of his, although not one he could justify buying often.

“I thought my present was lunch?”

“Duo paid for it already,” Heero told him, unfolding his napkin and setting it on his lap. “I just had to make sure you turned up and ate it.”

“Oh, so you’re all policing me?” Wufei sat back as the waiter arrived and set their starters in front of them - terrine, exactly what Wufei had ordered the first time he had come here with Duo.

“Just keeping you on schedule.” Heero shot him a smirk. “Eat up. You don’t want to be late for the next stop.”

  


*

  


After leaving Heero - who was looking far too pleased with himself - Wufei briefly toyed with the idea of just going home, since the idea of everyone he knew fixating on his whereabouts grated a little bit.

But.

Duo had planned all this for him. And clearly gone to some lengths to do so.

Even if he hadn’t been actually rather enjoying himself, the idea of disappointing Duo after he had clearly flung everything he had at this scheme was something that was out of the question. He didn’t like disappointing Duo, and he was extremely aware of his own shortcomings in that respect.

The next stop took him across the River, and to the bustling, crowded South Bank. Tourists crowded around, watching the mimes and the street performers, queueing at the street vendors, or milling in and out of the theatres and cafes and bars.

It was so busy he almost didn’t see Relena, stood neatly out of the way of the bustle and the noise, by the foot of the bright yellow, spiral stone staircase. She smiled politely at him as he approached, a pretty woman in jeggings and a summery blouse, she managed to not look at all like one of the most powerful political figures in the Earth Sphere.

“Happy Birthday, Wufei,” she said as he approached, opening her arms to give him a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek. “It’s been too long since we’ve seen each other.”

“I thought you were in Mexico?” he asked, although it almost wasn’t a question. It had become readily apparent that no-one was where he expected them to be.

“I played hooky for a special occasion.” She dimpled at him, and then led him up the stairs, lightly clasping his hand to ensure he didn’t run away.

The roof garden at the top of the South Bank Centre was a strange patch of wilderness in the centre of the city. Somehow escaping the shadow of the taller buildings around it, it allowed for a spectacular view of the River, across to the Victoria Embankment, and got sunshine all day, bright and bold. The beds of wildflowers grew tall and bright, attracting bumblebees and giving a lovely smell, even the sounds of the busy riverbank below seemed far away and muted.

Today, however, folding chairs had been set out across the lawn and paths, facing where a string quartet was quietly tuning up.

Relena towed him to the bar that was beside the top of the stairs, and bought them a fruity cocktail each, before they slid into seats a couple of rows back just as the first pull of bow across strings rung pure across the rooftop. Relena held her glass up to his in a toast, clinking the rims together with a delighted smile, before settling down next to him to listen to the music.

It was a transporting performance, rich and warm, and that, in combination with the cocktail and the wine from lunch, left Wufei feeling… somewhat relaxed by the end of it. Relena looked like she was positively glowing, not just from the concert, but perhaps a little giddy from the fun of being involved in such a grand scheme.

Much like Sally, Relena was often booked up months ahead, and had very little flexibility in her calendar. It didn’t leave much time for irreverence, impulsiveness, or silly, whimsical fun. No wonder she seemed a bit excited - it was probably the most fun she’d had in a while.

As the crowd dispersed, she leaned up and kissed his cheek again, squeezing his hands.

“Happy birthday,” she said again, with some feeling. “Thank you for letting me be part of this.”

“I didn’t exactly have much say in the matter,” he said dryly, and she laughed.

“No, I suppose you didn’t.” She reached into her handbag and pulled out a gift for him - a CD, by the quartet who had just performed. “But thank you anyway. I hope the rest of your day is magical.”

“If I have any experience with Duo, it probably will be,” he assured her.

  


*

  


The Barbican was a huge complex, red brick, Brutalist architecture done right. It felt like a vision of the future from hundreds of years ago - tall buildings around planned courtyards, with overflowing troughs of flowers fixed to the balconies. The split levels were connected by walkways and stairs, underpasses winding through stone columns, feeling strangely magical and labyrinthine. The living blocks were all topped with semi-circular windows, giving a curved, rolling sense to the roofs.

Heading to the centre of the complex, he made his way down the stairs to the verandah in front of the Barbican Centre itself - theatre, library, art gallery, the centre was a cultural hub. The paved area in front of it stopped at the edge of a deep waterway which ran between it and the buildings opposite, passing under the pillars of a building built across it, and through the pillars the artificial lake, with reed beds, could be seen. Surrounded on three sides by more apartment buildings, and fed by a waterfall which protruded from the wall of the very furthest building. On the Barbican side of the pillars, the verandah was clear, but three circular sunken areas were spaced evenly just off the water, allowing the water to flow in and feed the fountains, as people sat on the edge and dangled their feet.

One such person was Hilde, jeans rolled up above her ankles, and ballet pumps sat on the bricks beside her, she waved cheerfully when she saw Wufei and flicked water at him as he drew nearer.

“Wanna paddle? The water’s gorgeous.”

“I think I’ll pass, thank you.”

“Birthday boy’s prerogative.” She clambered up, grabbing her shoes as she straightened, and heading off, barefoot, towards the doors to the gallery, leaving fading footprints on the warm bricks as her feet dried.

Pausing outside, she shot him a cheeky grin as she slipped her shoes on.

“Bet you didn’t expect to see me,” she observed.

She wasn’t wrong. Hilde had always been more of Duo’s friend than Wufei’s, although that connection alone had made him inclined to think highly of her. Whenever she visited, she was always welcome, and visits to her on L2 were never a chore. But he did find himself wondering why she was here - perhaps as a favour to Duo, who hadn’t wanted to cut the day short mid-afternoon. They hadn’t really spent any significant period of time alone together, usually in at least Duo’s company, if not as part of a larger group. He got on well with her, but they had never sought each other out for one-to-one socialising.

“I didn’t expect to see anyone I’ve seen today,” he settled for, and her grin widened - so very like Duo.

“I’m impressed, I didn’t think he’d manage to keep it secret at all.”

She hooked her arm through his and they walked together into the cool, dim foyer of the centre. Slipping two tickets from the back pocket of her jeans, Hilde handed one to Wufei, and gestured for him to lead the way into the exhibition - _1000 Years of Steel - Mechanics and Art_.

“Yes,” he observed, “this does seem more like the sort of thing you would be interested in than the experimental photography exhibit.”

“I mean, I _thought_ about it,” she teased. “Come on, let’s go look at the neat machines.”

  


*

  


Before leaving the Barbican, Hilde had handed him his present - a photo book on brutalist architecture - and taken him upstairs to the bar and bought them a glass of champagne each, raising it in a toast to him.

“For being together for all the big occasions,” she said, and Wufei felt that he could happily toast to that.

“I didn’t think champagne was your preference,” he said, watching her sip the drink with some hesitance.

“It’s a special day,” Hilde told him. “I was always told you had champagne on special days.”

“It’s only my birthday,” Wufei protested. “I have one every year.”

“Not _this_ birthday,” she said, taking another bigger sip. “You only get one of these.”

He had to reflect that she was right, he wouldn’t get another 30th birthday, but at the same time he got a nagging feeling she meant something else entirely, and when he left, she gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Go get ‘im, tiger,” she ordered, which made him wonder who was waiting at the next stop.

The path took him south again, back towards the river, and St Paul’s, as it rose above the city, its domed bulk impressive and beautiful. The clue led him inside, and up the stairs to the Whispering Gallery, more specific than the previous ones.

The gallery ringed the dome, a walkway with stone benches following the curve. High in the walls above, tall windows let in light and cast the evening sunshine on the gilt and iron decorations on the walls. A wrought railing was all that stood between visitors and the 30 metre drop to the stone cathedral floor below, and above the tower climbed up with increasing grandeur to the infamous rounded roof above.

The 259 step climb wasn’t for the faint hearted, so when he got there he wasn’t too surprised to find only a handful of people positioned around the gallery. None of them was familiar to him, however - a departure from every previous stop.

Instead, further around the walkway, a blue helium balloon was attached a small parcel that had been left, wrapped in bright, cheerful paper, on the bench a short way from the top of the stairs. Approaching it, there was was name tag on it, with his name in block capitals, written in chunky black pen - _WUFEI._

He glanced around again, suspiciously, but the other tourists were ignoring it, murmuring gently to themselves, pointing out decorations and reading guide books, or moving further apart to test the effect of the walls - the curve carrying speech around the gallery, a unique quirk of the architecture meaning a whisper could be heard meters away if you said it towards the wall, at the right angle.

Left with no further clues, he untied the balloon from around the present, wrapping the ribbon around his wrist to stop it escaping into the ceiling of the cathedral and getting him into trouble, before neatly unsticking the tape on one side of the gift and carefully unwrapping the paper. Folding it up and sliding it into his pocket, he was left with a small, square, black box. Unassuming, unmarked, and with no clue as to the contents, save for a barely visible line showing where the lid and base met.

He eased it off, half-prepared for it to contain some kind of minor explosive device - but for all the shock that went through him when the contents were revealed, for all his heart stopped for a handful of seconds, there was nothing actually blowing up.

A ring, brushed yellow gold, plain and unassuming, was nestled in rich, blue fabric.  

Wufei couldn’t remember how to breathe. Instead he just stared at it.

And then, a voice, a whisper, sounding as if it were right in his ear.

“Whaddya say?”

There was no-one stood either side of him, or behind him, but turning slowly on the spot, across the opposite side of the gallery, Wufei’s eyes found him instantly. Sat directly over from him, on the bench, like he had been there for ages - even though he hadn’t been, Wufei was sure of it - was Duo. In the flesh, leaning against the wall, long legs crossed, arms spread across the back of the bench. There were slight, dark smudges under his eyes, but he looked good. All the better for being _here_ , and not on a screen. He was still too far away, but he didn’t look ready to move. And Wufei - Wufei was frozen.

For all his body language was relaxed, his eyes were intent on Wufei, studying his face from so far away. Watching as Wufei lowered himself onto his bench, and turned his head to send his own whisper back around the walls to Duo. To the man he had been missing for a month.

“What do you want me to say?”

The answer came quickly, the other man clearly did not want to break eye contact. The words travelled so far, but they arrived almost instantly.

“ _Say yes_.”

Even from across the room the words were emphatic, a plea, a challenge, a question. Wufei could feel the shape of the box in his hand, it was so light, for how monumental thing this seemed to be. He wet his lips and tried to speak, to send a whispered answer back, but for some reason the words failed him. They didn’t seem to be enough.

Instead, he looked away, looked down at the ring. Gently lifted it from the box - it resisted slightly, secured in its place. The gold was cool, and heavier than he expected. Sliding it onto his finger, it stuck, slightly, at the knuckle, before fitting neatly into place, cool and smooth and heavy where his finger met his palm. A strange weight on his hand, a strange sensation against his skin. It looked alien on his hand, and at the same time something inside him felt warm, and peaceful. He hadn’t ever felt like he was lacking anything, but this added something more than he had ever thought possible.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been staring at it, until familiar, pale fingers wrapped around his, and he found Duo kneeling in front of him, head ducked to try and catch his eyes. He was smiling, so fondly and warmly, and Wufei was overwhelmed by it, by him - the smell he had missed, the rough hands against his own, the crinkles at the edge of his eyes - and he gave in, diving forward to press their lips together, wrapping his arms around Duo’s neck to pull him closer, keep him near.

Duo knelt up and met him, one arm wrapping around Wufei’s waist whilst the other rested on his elbow, and his chuckle rumbled through the both of them, warm and rich and like home.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then,” Duo breathed, when they pulled apart. “Thank you.”

“You said you weren’t due home until this evening.”

“I said I’d see you this evening,” Duo teased, his nose nuzzling against Wufei’s ear. “Different.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re stuck with me now.”

“You’ve spent all day buttering me up,” Wufei observed, and together they untangled themselves and stood, “you earned it.”

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Wufei paused, briefly, to spin the last pokéstop, and see what goodies were delivered. The usual flurry of bonus items, and another clue - although this one simply said

_Duo and Wufei 5eva_

He suppressed a laugh, and then looked, startled, as suddenly masses of other pokéstops exploded into existence around where they were stood. Duo peered over his shoulder and grinned.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s just the normal game now. There’s nothing else for you to…”

He trailed off, as Wufei was clearly focused not on him, but on catching the pokémon that had just appeared on the screen. Out of the corner of his eye, Wufei could see the triumphant grin splitting his face.

“I _knew_ you’d like it,” he crowed, drawing disapproving looks from the people around them and dropping his voice guiltily. “You complained, but I _knew_ it!”

“You’re very clever,” Wufei said dryly, finally closing the game and turning to give Duo his full attention. “What next?”

Lacing their fingers together, Duo walked them out of the cathedral and onto the street. Around them, people milled about their days as if nothing had changed, as if something monumental hadn’t just happened. Duo’s hand pressed the ring more against his finger, and the warmth throbbed deep inside Wufei’s chest, pleasant and new. He was still carrying the balloon, and it bounced and tugged against the ribbon in the gentle breeze.

“We’ve got everyone here,” Duo said, “I think it’s a good excuse for a drink, don’t you?”

Leading them around the corner, the short walk to the pub ended as they stepped in the door  and were instantly mobbed by their friends - who had obviously all been camped out here for… some time - pressing champagne into their hands and tugging them over to the table they had bagged in the corner. Hilde stood on a chair, and shushed them all, holding up her champagne in a toast.

“To being together for the big occasions!” she intoned.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Kangof_cb for beta reading and cheerleading! 
> 
> \- If anyone is interested, here is a rough map of Wufei's journey through London: https://ibb.co/j0LMvR
> 
> \- The Wellcome Collection is so neat, and filled with all kinds of historical artefacts and books. The reading room is gorgeous, and has giant bean bags up a sweeping staircase for lounging and reading; as well as lots of temporary exhibitions changing regularly. You can find more about it here; https://wellcomecollection.org
> 
> \- I love the British Library so much, it is the best place to be. The reading rooms are gorgeous, and the exhibitions are really wonderful, and the gift shop is really flipping dangerous: https://www.bl.uk
> 
> \- The British Museum is... mostly a collection of stuff that Britain stole during the age of the Empire. But it's a gorgeous building, and does all sorts of events and lectures. I love it. http://www.britishmuseum.org
> 
> \- Covent Garden is a very lovely area of London, with the Opera House, and lots of lovely boutiques and pubs. At the centre is like an old market building I guess? Which they have converted into a shopping area. It also features nicely in Ben Aaronovitch's book 'Rivers of London', which is excellent, btw. https://www.coventgarden.london
> 
> \- The South Bank is known for arty things, and the Southbank centre is a very quirky space. The roof garden is really lovely. It's a very strange space. If you are used to the countryside, it feels very much an attempt to wave at nature in the city, but the wildflowers are beautiful and it's a wonderful space. https://www.southbankcentre.co.uk/visit/outdoor-spaces/queen-elizabeth-hall-roof-garden
> 
> \- I LOVE THE BARBICAN. I usually hate brutalist architecture - I have spent a lot of time in really ugly brutalist buildings. But there is something really very wonderful and special about the Barbican. It has a library, an art gallery, room for various exhibitions, a theatre, bars, a restaurant... and that's just in the Barbican Centre - around it are flats and offices in this incredible buildings. It's really quite glorious. https://www.barbican.org.uk
> 
> \- The Whispering Gallery at St Paul's is a bit of a scientific marvel. The way the walls are curved, it can carry sound around the whole walkway. If you whisper at the correct angle, someone can hear it across the other side of the balcony. https://londonist.com/2016/05/how-does-the-whispering-gallery-at-st-paul-s-actually-work
> 
> \- thelaughingstar's Wufei is a BIG Pokemon fan, so hence the Pokemon Go shenanigans. Wufei's reaction in this is basically my husband's reaction. He had no real exposure to Pokemon, but he got into it very quickly, and desperately wanted to know what all the pokemon were. So, that's Wufei here.


End file.
